


it's still called "what the fuck do you mean" on my computer so that'll do for now

by blessedfetish



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angsty Frank Iero, Artist Gerard Way, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, I guess you could call it "latent love", M/M, Post-High School, Teenagers, Unspoken Love, i honestly don't know what i'm doing or how to tag this, just read it, reassure my stupid existence, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedfetish/pseuds/blessedfetish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the fuck do you mean, you got accepted to SVA?” Frank abruptly sat up from his place in the grass, now seething through his teeth.<br/>“I got in, Frankie! I got in!” Gerard exclaimed, clearly not understanding Frank was suddenly having the worst night of his whole life.<br/>“I didn’t even know you applied.”<br/>“It was a last minute decision. I just took some shitty photos of my work from this past year, stuck ‘em up on an online portfolio and submitted it. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t think I’d be accepted… Are you not happy for me?” Gerard asked, and Frank hated how he could hear the hurt seeping through his words. He knew Gerard hadn’t intentionally set out to ruin his life, but at the moment it sure as hell felt like it. Frank’s best friend was going to be moving to a completely different city, without him, living up his new life in New York’s finest art scene. And he was going to be stuck here, rotting away in fucking Newark, New Jersey, in community college and taking courses he didn’t even care about because he didn’t really care about anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They're both idiots

**Author's Note:**

> hi, I'm not sure if I'm actually going to be able to write this due to the fact that I am the worst want-to-be-professional writer in the world, meaning that I don't fucking write ever. but we'll see. maybe I'll feel committed to this because I'm actually publishing it. 
> 
> also I only have a very vague idea of where this story is going, so please feel free to throw suggestions my way.

            “What the fuck do you _mean_ , you got accepted to SVA?” Frank abruptly sat up from his place in the grass, now seething through his teeth.

            “I got in, Frankie! I got in!” Gerard exclaimed, clearly not understanding Frank was suddenly having the worst night of his whole life.

            “I didn’t even know you applied.”

            “It was a last minute decision. I just took some shitty photos of my work from this past year, stuck ‘em up on an online portfolio and submitted it. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t think I’d be accepted… Are you not happy for me?” Gerard asked, and Frank hated how he could hear the hurt seeping through his words. He knew Gerard hadn’t intentionally set out to ruin his life, but at the moment it sure as hell felt like it. Frank’s best friend was going to be moving to a completely different city, without him, living up his new life in New York’s finest art scene. And he was going to be stuck here, rotting away in fucking Newark, New Jersey, in community college and taking courses he didn’t even care about because he didn’t really care about anything.

            “Look, I’m happy for you,” Frank took a sharp intake of breath. Gerard looked on skeptically. “What? I am! I’m so fucking proud of you, Gee. I just feel a little… left out, is all. I didn’t even know you’d applied, and now suddenly you’re dropping this huge news on me, that quite frankly, changes everything,” Frank continued.

            “You’re _angry_ with me? Are you fucking kidding me, Frank? You can’t even simply congratulate me? You’re my best fucking friend. I thought of all people that you would be supportive,” Gerard responded, getting up from laying in the grass.

            “Where are you going?” Frank asked, already regretting this turn of events.

            “I’m fucking going home. You can spend graduation night alone,” Gerard said as he walked out of Frank’s backyard. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

            “Congratul-fucking-lations, man. That’s just great! Walk away, go ahead,” Frank called out after him. When he was alone he said fuck to himself until the word held no more weight, and picked his sorry self-up from the ground and onward inside.

            “Please, don’t comment, ma,” he said as he walked past the kitchen to get to his bedroom. She just held her hands up as if to say she was in no way thinking anything at all, with wide green understanding eyes. Frank kind of felt like curling up in his mom’s lap and telling her everything, but _he was a grown man_ and _in college now_. College kids don’t cry to their moms. At least he didn’t think so, anyway.

           

            Frank tossed and turned all that night, unable to sleep with the heavy feeling of guilt taking up residency in his gut. Eventually he gave in and texted Mikey, asking if Gerard had said anything when he got home earlier.

            Unfortunately Mikey turned out to not be such a great help.

ur an idiot

g’s not here

and also suck it up

            Heavily sighing and rolling his eyes at himself, at Gerard, and their entire situation, he rolled himself out of bed to pull on some jeans and a hoodie. He opened his bedroom window – thank the universe for his fortune of having such an easily accessible bedroom – and climbed out over the rose hedges. He made his way around the front of his house and down the sidewalk that led to the corner of 2nd Street and Anderson Boulevard, where he was certain Gerard would inevitably be sulking. That was just their thing. They got upset, they went to The Corner, and they sulked until the other finally sucked it up enough to meet the other.

            Frank sat down next to the lump of jacket and jammie pants hunched over on the pavement. They sat in silence for what was probably a few minutes before one of them finally spoke up.

            “I don’t want to fight,” Gerard said with his voice barely above a whisper.

            Frank felt defeated. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make things worse. He didn’t want to fight either, but they needed to talk about this. He just didn’t know _how_ to go about such a thing.

            “I don’t want to, either, Gee. But… I don’t want to get left behind, either. I thought it was going to be the both of us. Doing this. Whatever _this_ is,” Frank said.

            “Come with me.”

             


	2. The Blanket Burrito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is a grumpy blanket burrito and Frank rall

            “What would I even do there, Gerard? I don’t do art, I don’t really do much of anything,” Frank replied, exasperated at the fact that Gerard would even suggest that.

            “Exactly. You don’t know what you’re doing, so you don’t have to go to school right now. Fuck it, just come with me. It’ll be fucking _amazing,_ ” Gerard said.

            “I don’t know. I don’t think I can just drop everything and move to New York.”

            “What do you have to drop? Your mom? She’ll be close enough for you to visit all the time. Other than that, we’d live together. We could find jobs and an apartment and it would be so fucking _cool_ ,” Gerard kept trying to coerce Frank.

            “Yeah, I guess you have a point. I don’t really have much for me going here,” Frank finally agreed.

            “So is that it? Will you move to New York with me?”

            Frank had to pause a moment to process what he was actually getting himself into. “Hell yeah.”

            Gerard just about toppled onto Frank, pushing him over on the pavement so they could make-shift cuddle-hug. That’s just what they did. Gerard flopped over to lay on his back on the sidewalk and stare up at the sky, and Frank followed suit. They laid like that, watching the stars and talking until the sun peaked over the horizon and the sky lightened to that lazy light blue color it was in the earliest hours of the morning.

 

 

 

***

 

            Frank was splayed out lazily on his bed when his bedroom door swung open and shut.

            “Hey, you could’ve knocked,” Frank said with a roll of the eyes.

            “Oh, shut up. I’ve seen everything that you could have possibly been doing,” Gerard replied. “I’m not going.”

            Frank sat up, feeling his insides turn upside down with him. “What?”

            “I’m not going to New York,” Gerard answered simply.

            “What the fuck do you mean?”

            “I can’t go. I’m not cut out for art school. I’m going to fail miserably. And I can’t just leave Mikey, or expect you to leave your life here to come with me, and I’m sure as hell not going without you, so it’s simple. The answer is clear: I’m not going,” Gerard was working himself up, tripping over his own words in his obvious frustration.

            “What the fuck are you on about, Gee? The two of us are moving to New York, you’re going to go to SVA, and that’s the end of that. We’re going. End of discussion,” Frank replied, matching Gerard’s heat.

            “Oh, what, are you my fucking parents now? I don’t need this,” Gerard said.

            “Why the hell are you getting mad at _me_ for? I’m literally telling you to go to your fucking dream school, and I’m telling you that I’m going to move with you so you’re not all alone and have someone there for you, and you’re getting fucking _mad_ at me? Fuck this,” Frank replied.

            “Oh, good, fuck this? Fuck you, Frank,” Gerard said. And with that, he left Frank’s bedroom without another word, huffing down the Iero’s staircase and out the front door.

            A good half hour later, after Frank having settled down, his phone chimed.

oh you’ve gone and done it now

g wont leave the fucking basement

good going jackoff

come here and fix it, whatever it is

            Frank rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day, and rolled out of bed. It looked like he wasn’t ever going to sleep again. Who needed sleep to function like a regular human in society anyway? Not Frank, that’s for sure.

            He made his way over to the Way’s residence, knocked for a second, and promptly let himself in. He didn’t even bother knocking on the basement door, because first off, Gerard never knocked upon entering his room, and secondly, he was pissed off at Gerard for being so back and forth with this entire ordeal.

            “Excuse me?” sounded from the lump on the carpet. Oh, sweet, he was cocooned in a blanket burrito on the ground in the dark with Bright Eyes playing in the background. This ought to be good, Frank thought to himself.

            “You’re excused, you little shit,” Frank said, kicking the burrito on his way to sit on the blanket-less bed.

            “Oh, it’s _you,”_ Gerard The Burrito said.

            “Yeah, that’s just great, Gee. For a recent high school graduate and art school student, this is really, very mature. Good going,” Frank replied. He inwardly scolded himself. As much as he hated it when Gerard’s younger brother was right, he knew he needed to fix whatever _this_ was between the two of them. They hadn’t been quite right ever since he found out about Gerard’s SVA acceptance.

            “Look, I’m sorry, Gee,” Frank eventually sighed when the burrito didn’t respond.

            It took a moment, but Gerard finally replied, “I’m sorry, too.”

            It was silent for a few moments before they both tried to speak in unison.

            “No, sorry, you go first,” Frank said.

            “No, you can,” Gerard insisted.

            “Okay, I just. I’m sorry I’ve been kind of shitty lately. I know I haven’t really been the best friend recently,” Frank apologized.

            “No, it’s okay. I’ve pushed you to act that way. I’m really, really sorry,” Gerard mumbled.

            “It’s really okay, dude.”

            Gerard’s head poked out of the burrito and he sat up from the floor.

            “I, uh. Frank? I need to talk to you,” Gerard said.

            “Yeah?”

            Gerard looked down, a slight blush creeping onto his features.

            “I-I’m-uh. I’m. I think I’m kinda sorta in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really sorry it took a week to write this shitty short chapter. I'm going to try to update at least once weekly until it's finished, but I'm kind of in between stories right now because I just can't stay committed. sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> also sorry this is so short holy smokes


End file.
